Comments for

Comment on Ten Great Movies That Ruined Cinema Forever, Minus Six, But I’m Really Only To Talk About One. Tangentally. by Scott King

Scott King — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 03:39:18 +0000

I should have said ten of the greatest lists of all time, but I was worried people would write back and say: “you forgot to list that list, which was a list of lists!”. The list is as follows.

1) It’s Pat
2) Democracy
3) Four types of trees
4) Burnt Milk
5) Anyone who is late to Happy Hour
6) Quiz Show (not the movie, the idea)
7) Thanksgiving (not the idea, the movie)
Charles Grodin
9) The feeling of wanting a pen, but not having one.

I couldn’t come up with number 10, but then I realized: the list must be complete.

Comment on Ten Great Movies That Ruined Cinema Forever, Minus Six, But I’m Really Only To Talk About One. Tangentally. by Nathan

Nathan — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 01:56:58 +0000

I’m sorry. I skipped to the end. Where is the list?

Although I saw something-something about how developers makes the good modernism.

Comment on Great. Now I hate Paris. by Nathan

Nathan — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 13:08:10 +0000

I did forget to mention the whole part about it being really, really nice to look at. I mean, you have this whole “thing” against the “three’d-D” and all, but still, it was a luscious wonderland aaaaand cue me being arrested trailing after preteen 3D girls. I don’t know who is worse, you or I, although everyone says I am, despite the protestations of Chloë Grace Moretz. No, really, she’s getting awfully loud about it now, and it’s embarrassing.

Comment on Great. Now I hate Paris. by Scott King

Scott King — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 08:41:49 +0000

Ah, just as my opinions being entirely subjective make me right, yours make you wrong.

Couldn’t they haven’t given Méliès a dead son? Or a broken toenail? It just makes him seem like a jerk. Nevertheless, I concede that they were trying to go for the Damaged Man, and in the other characters, to some extent, succeeded. Except for the fire that killed Jude Law. Where did that come from? Burning films?

In my defense, I can only say that my belief that diagesis *requires* mimesis clouded my judgement. Even though you’re wrong (see above), you’re a better man than I since enjoying a film is better than not. Which means that even Hugo, not being Hugo, is better than Hugo.

Comment on Great. Now I hate Paris. by Nathan

Nathan — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 04:32:05 +0000

You are wrong on everything you have ever said, based of course on something with which I remotely disagree, which I have now forgotten, now let me see, let’s go back, I know I witnessed A Life Less Ordinary with you and of Nine Months…I think there was Joan Cusak? Point being, Hugo “even movies that are worse than Hugo are better than Hugo” Hugo is a nice little film, and *I* would have used Keitel’s Lieutenant on his knees to prove that point as well. Of course, I would offer that our schism involves your preference for mimesis over mine for diegesis; that’s an insult to both of us, or at least to Abel Ferrara.

If nothing else, Hugo coined the term “pus-shed” but you despise it because of football. That is called displaced aggression. (Montgomery Clift…as Freud!) Do not conflate your anger with Falmer Station Drunks with Cloying Scorcese Screenwriting…oh, what the hell, go ahead.

I must say Hugo was “conviently constructed,” yes. But was it saccharine? No. Unlike a certain film we most certainly enjoyed, “Chaplin” (starring our own Sage Guyton), where the “adulation” third act comes on strong, as such does in Hugo. (Wait, what? We enjoyed “Chaplin” because of lots of hot prancing naked ladies? I stand corrected.)

Also, we have the term Hatenfreude, which I have already used twice today.

However, if the film is *really* about “World War One is bad because Mssr. Georges Méliès gave up films” then yes, I would concede it is jejune.

Yet I for one did not see the picture as about Méliès at all, but took it on as a parable about the Damaged Man, whether that something removed is Hugo’s father, Gustav’s leg, Méliès work, and yet all are restored by various forms of Art, of Womanhood. To wit: Moretz, automaton/father, woman (Frances de la Tour, or, more importantly, Jeanne D’Alcy, who famously inspired Méliès). I think it’s a weird film–not Cronenberg weird, but it has a subtext noone has looked at.

I know you hate it in part because the doggie is an unsympathetic character. Dude, I’m with you on that.

And you know what? About war? (Cf., above) The real casualty IS our dreams. And film restoration.

Anyone who says different didn’t know how to tie a knot in it.

Comment on Great. Now I hate Paris. by Scott King

Scott King — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 08:57:18 +0000

I can’t tell you how happy I am to learn I am still completely ignorant about football. I would stress that even fans of Brighton should still STAY OFF THE TRAINS!

Comment on Great. Now I hate Paris. by Richard

Richard — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 17:22:28 +0000

If it is any comfort, and I suspect it will be, you have not assimilated so much that you can articulate football rivalries accurately. Brighton and Hove Albion are in a different league (literally) to Arsenal, and hence there is little rivalry. Southampton, whose supporters you probably shared the train with, are a different matter, and they are of course all scum.

Comment on Ceci n’est pas un film au sujet de maladie. by Scott King

Scott King — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 08:56:21 +0000

Mlle. Marion Cotillard can basically have whatever she wants. And I can’t believe you didn’t see ‘Hobbesfreude’. I have little doubt I’ll be using it again.

Comment on Ceci n’est pas un film au sujet de maladie. by Nathan

Nathan — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 20:27:30 +0000

We’re not neo-Hobbesians. We’re Hobbesians. And if Mlle. Marion Cotillard gets a tag, we demand one too.

Comment on Fifteen producers, seven writers, four companies, and one genre. by Nathan Marsak

Nathan Marsak — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 00:31:00 +0000

Your post had a lot of words in it, so I just decided to go down to the bottom to see what its tags were. After reading the tags, I immediately sold everything I owned and drove around town giving baskets of money to Artisan and Carolco and anyone else who makes movies, because of Olivia Wilde and Che Guevara. Kissing.